


Relationships (And Graves) Are Only What You Put Into Them

by Immortalnite



Series: Off The Record (With You) [4]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Detective Noir, M/M, Marriage, Murder, Murder Husbands, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-05-29 18:19:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15078911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortalnite/pseuds/Immortalnite
Summary: "I want to watch you do it."Ryan looked up at Shane from his plate of mashed potatoes and green beans, eyebrows furrowed. "Do what?"Shane idly spun his fork between his fingers. "Murder someone."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you're coming to this series for the first time, you really should go back and read the first 3 works. They're short, I promise.
> 
> Yeah so I told myself that the previous part of this series was going to be the last one and then the boys did that fucking Sims video and let's be real here how could I not keep writing. Anyway, this will be the actual last part of this series. I'm bringing it full circle here, gonna give it some closure. Enjoy!

Detective C.C. Tinsley hadn't believed in ghosts. Shane Alexander Madej was starting to.

He'd always thought that it was scientifically impossible for the dead to rise again. That at about six minutes, the damage caused by oxygen loss to the brain would be too severe to recover from. That at six hours, all the blood would be pooled under the skin closest to the ground, far away from the organs that needed it to live. That at six days, the natural decomposition of the body would have turned it into a breeding ground for flies, making it less and less human. That at six months, the maggots and ants would have stripped away enough flesh to lay bone bare, eliminating the possibility of mobility for the corpse even if it somehow zombified.

He'd always believed these things with a comfortable conviction, laughing at his co-workers who refused to venture down to the morgue past 8pm, enjoying haunted houses around Halloween but never having trouble sleeping afterwards. He'd always thought it was cute how Ryan insisted that the banging pipe in the roof of their grocery store's back room was subject to the machinations of some spectral scoundrel. He'd never had any reason to think otherwise, after all. Nothing had ever called Tinsley's beliefs into question.

But Tinsley never had nightmares of blood.

Blood, all over the kitchen floor, blooming like a flower out from Ryan's body while a nameless wannabe crime lord stood over him, laughing. Blood, coating his arms from his elbows down to his hands, hands that held a shovel limply over an open grave while a skeleton lunged out of the ground to drag Ryan in. Blood, coating Ryan's lips so beautifully, dripping from his mouth down to the blade of a knife that protruded from under his sternum, a knife that was held between sweaty, meaty palms that he could do nothing to stop.

If ghosts weren't real, then why did Shane see that man that he had murdered and the man he had saved every time he fell asleep?

He never told Ryan about the nightmares, but he could tell Ryan knew anyway. He could tell from the way Ryan kissed him goodnight, from the tea that Ryan made for him in the mornings that followed, from the arms that sleepily welcomed him back into bed at 2am after he had to go to the bathroom and turn on all the lights to banish the rotting face of the dead man and the mirage of Ryan's dying eyes from his mind. There was never any pity in Ryan's face, only determined understanding. Shane wondered if Ryan had ever gotten nightmares. He never asked.

In the light of day, the ghosts never came. All he could do was try to reassure himself that Ryan was alive, was ok. When the darkness of night came, he shut his eyes for sleep and hoped for the best.

 

~*~

 

It was one of these nights, tired and weary, that he finally got up the courage to ask the question he'd been wondering about.

Shane rolled over in bed, the sheet falling across his bare chest at the sound of the shower shutting off. Ryan winked at him as he came out of the bathroom and dropped the towel around his waist, tugging on boxers and shaking the water out of his hair.

"What is it, big guy?"

Shane raised an eyebrow at Ryan as he slipped into the bed next to him. "What is what?"

"Your question." Ryan propped up the pillows on his side of the bed and picked up a novella he'd been reading. "I can see it in your face."

Shane sighed, leaning his head against his hand. "Why aren't I dead? Why did you never kill me?"

Ryan's finger stilled on the pages of his book, but Shane wasn't done.

"I was on your case, I could have gotten you caught much earlier than I did. But I didn't, and that made me a crooked cop. You killed your victims in bed, and yet no matter how many times I ended up in yours I always walked away fine. Why?"

Ryan set his book down with careful precision, not looking Shane in the eye. "I'll be honest, I thought about it countless times."

His gaze met Shane's unwaveringly. "Every single time I left, I'd turn and look down at your sleeping body, so defenceless. And then I'd tell myself it was the last time, that the next time I'd do it, I'd kill you. But that never happened, and eventually I stopped lying to myself."

"So you're telling me I'm alive because the sex was so good." Shane smirked. Ryan threw a pillow at him.

Shane caught it and smiled at him. "What I meant to say was, I love you too." He stuffed the pillow under his head and closed his eyes.

When Ryan's bedside lamp went out a few minutes later, Shane fell into a dreamless sleep.

 

~*~

 

The next morning, Shane got up before Ryan did and made breakfast, for the first time in weeks. It was Wednesday, thankfully, so they didn't have to go into work. Instead, they sat around their little coffee table, Ryan idly examining the newspaper and Shane searching for Atlantis in the bottom of his tea.

"Hey, Ryan. Would you marry me?" Shane tapped the edge of his mug against his lips thoughtfully.

"Baby, we can't get married. We're two guys, that's not legal." Ryan turned the page of the paper.

"We're also two fugitives. Legality has never stopped us before." Shane shrugged.

Ryan glanced up from his reading to examine Shane's face. "Do you want me to dress up like a girl so we can get married for tax benefits or something? Cause I'll put on a dress if you really want but I doubt it'll fool anyone."

"No, I don't care about the tax benefits. Never mind, I guess." Shane sighed.

Ryan folded up the newspaper and set it down. "What's this about? Why do you want to get married all of a sudden?"

"I..." Shane shook his head. He didn't know. He just felt like they had to do something.

Ryan must have seen some answer in his face, because the shorter man sighed and his shoulders dropped. "How do you want to do it?"

"Do it?"

Ryan sighed. "Get married, you idiot. How do you want to get married?"

"I don't know." Shane furrowed his brows. "You're really willing to get married to me?"

Ryan tool the empty mug of tea from Shane's hands, taking it to the sink to wash. "You're the only person I trust and the only person I love. We're partners, in everything. Sure, let's get fucking married."

Shane stared at Ryan's back as he washed the mug. "You love me?"

Ryan dropped the mug into the sink with a clatter, drying his hands off with a towel. He walked up to Shane, confidence in his stride, and yanked the taller man down so they were eye to eye. "I murdered dozens of people, but I've never laid a knife on you. When I broke out of prison, I didn't even think of leaving before I'd gone to see you. When I fled across the country, I did it with you by my side. You killed someone to save me and don't think I'm not perfectly aware of the nightmares you've had because of it. Besides," Ryan smiled. "Didn't I already say that last night?"

"Not really, no." Shane pressed his forehead against Ryan's, smiling back.

"Oh, well." Ryan shrugged. "I love you, big guy."

"I love you too, little guy." Shane wrapped his arms around Ryan's waist. "So are you ok with it? With us getting married?"

Ryan rolled his eyes fondly. "Of course I am, we just talked about this. I'm not sure what exactly you have in mind as far as a wedding, but I trust you'll let me know what you want when you figure it out."

Shane almost laughed. Ryan knew him well enough to know that his suggestion had been purely spontaneous, and knew that Shane would need some time to actually get the details figured out. "I will."

"Good." Ryan kissed him, the taste of strawberry jam still on his lips from breakfast.

Shane knew that no matter what he eventually settled on as the plan, it would be perfect.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun thing, there was a serial killer named John Knowles who murdered people in a very similar way to how Ryan/Ricky does in this series, you should consider looking him up.

It ended up being the Sunday after, at the dinner table, that Shane finally told Ryan his idea.

"I want to watch you do it."

Ryan looked up at Shane from his plate of mashed potatoes and green beans, eyebrows furrowed. "Do what?"

Shane idly spun his fork between his fingers. "Murder someone."

Ryan blinked. "Um."

"Most guys have bachelor parties before they get married, right? A guy's night out with girls and booze to commemorate what they'll be giving up." Shane said pensively.

"Obviously that's not really something that applies to us, but the concept is still right. You never have to murder someone alone again, and I never have to try to prove you're murdering people again."

Ryan stabbed his fork into his potatoes, pushing them around aimlessly. "You just think it's kinda hot, don't you?"

Shane shrugged. The memory of the night they had buried the crime lordling flashed through his mind, hands roving over flushed skin and Ryan's weight in his lap.

Ryan smirked. "Alright. I'll set it up. Do you want a ring?"

Shane shrugged again. "If you want to get one, sure. I got you one but you don't have to wea-"

"I'll wear it." Ryan cut him off. "And I'll get you one. Can't have people thinking you're available."

There was a little note of possessiveness in his voice that had Shane smiling. "Ok."

After dinner that night, the topic was more or less dropped. Murder wasn't exactly casual conversation material, and it wasn't like they could announce to all their friends that they were getting married. For one, neither of them really had made friends after their move. The closest thing was a pair of lawyers named Pan and Rubin and a few others who were regulars at their grocery store. For another, as relatively open as the city was to homosexuals, it still wasn't exactly acceptable to be gay, much less get married.  
So, nearly a week went by before anything happened. On Friday night, Shane closed up the store and came home to an outfit laid out on their bed for him.

"Get dressed, let me know when you're ready." Ryan called to him from the bathroom.

Shane obeyed, changing out of his demure work clothes for the flashier vest and blue button-up shirt. Ryan had even left a tie out for him, a black and silver patterned strip of fabric that Shane knew had a twin which likely hung around his partner's neck. When he finished dressing, he turned around. Ryan had been standing in the doorway with burning, patient eyes. He stalked forward when Shane met his gaze and pulled him in by the tie that Shane hadn't yet tucked in.

"You look perfect." Ryan's lips just grazed Shane's before he was pulling away. "Come on, we're on a schedule."

Shane's legs moved automatically and he followed Ryan to the car that had sat unused since that night. They hadn't even taken the shovel out of the trunk. Ryan drove, of course, silent until he pulled into a parking spot behind a quietly glowing bar. It was one of those little-known, tucked away dives that you could pass a hundred times on the street and never really see, so Shane recognised it for what it was immediately. A bar that served alcohol to gay men. The most illegal of all establishments.

"I'll go in first. Follow me about five minutes later, don't order anything special. Just try to blend in but watch for me to leave." Ryan shut the car off with a sharp jerk of his wrist. He pulled a little paper pouch out of his vest and slipped it into his sleeve, demeanor all business.

"Who are you taking with you?" Shane's eyes followed the pouch and he wondered what was in it.

"His name is Steven Lim. He runs a bank and likes gold a little bit too much, if you catch my drift." Ryan said. He unbuckled himself and got out of the car, hovering slightly before closing it. "Remember, five minutes."

The door slammed shut. Shane watched Ryan saunter in the front door of the dive. Idly, he wondered how Ryan had even heard of the establishment. He didn't miss the way clearly tipsy pedestrians avoided the entrance to the place as couples staggered their way through the streets and sighed. One day, he hoped, it wouldn't be nearly disgraceful to go to a gay bar.

With nothing else to do for five minutes, Shane let his detective eyes roam the building, taking note of the location and angle of the back door, the dumpsters and the single dim street lamp that their car sat by. It might be useful to know where the exit was once he got inside.

After a couple more minutes of twitching in his seat and checking his watch every few moments, Shane finally left the car to follow his fiance inside. He barely let himself take in the room once he walked in, not wanting to single himself out too obviously as a newcomer. Instead, he made a beeline straight for the bar along the side wall. After fumbling through a few playful passes made by the bartender, he managed to order a plain soda and secured a seat at the bar. He said something vague about waiting for someone to meet him, which he hoped would both keep away anyone looking for a chat but also not arouse too much suspicion when he left abruptly later if it appeared he'd gotten stood up.

Bringing his coke to his lips, Shane turned around and let his eyes wander the crowd of dancers. A small jazz combo was playing a soothing number that had the dance floor swaying rhythmically and all around were men in various shades of evening formal wear. It too Shane a few sweeps to find Ryan's combed and styled hair among the rest of the slicked black heads. He tried not to let his eyes rest too long, or too angrily, on Ryan's dancing partner when he found them.

The other man was also small, around the same height as Ryan, but had hair so light in colour it was nearly white. While Ryan and Shane's ties has silver thread accenting them, this man's entire outfit was lined with golden thread, almost obscenely decadent. He looked respectable, powerful, wealthy and carefree. At that moment, Shane decided that the ridiculous decadence that this man favoured and the insult of dancing with his fiance were crime enough to warrant his death. He'd have no trouble watching this one die.

Wrenching his head away from the two of them, he looked towards the back of the bar. There were a pair of bathroom doors, but a third door in the very back corner was marked only with a red X. Given the position, it had to be the same one he'd seen from the outside. Perfect. All he needed to do was wait, then.

A few sodas later, the bartender was beginning to give him looks and he suspected he was only one more soda away from getting offered pity shots. He declined more than a few offers to dance by saying he was waiting for someone, though offers got more persistent as the night wore on and he didn't move. He wondered what was taking Ryan so long.

When the music changed to a slow number, Shane turned around to search for his partner. This time it only took him a few seconds to find the pale hair and gold suit. Lim had his head on Ryan's shoulder, holding him in that close and loose way that suggested he'd had more than a few drinks. Ryan caught Shane's eyes over Lim's shoulder and winked.

Shane turned back to the bar and set down his soda, half finished.

"It seems I'd better close out my tab at this point." Shane said to the bartender with a sad smile. "I'm going to the boy's room."

The bartender gave a knowing nod and accepted the money. "Hope to see you back again sometime." 

Shane gave a non committal shrug and slipped off his stool, heading towards the bathroom. Just before he reached the door, he turned and left through the back door instead.

Not even a moment later, Ryan came through the door with a drunk Lim hanging onto his arm. Lim didn't even seem to notice Shane as he mumbled something and nuzzled the side of Ryan's neck. Shane helped support Ryan as they carried the drunk man to their car, dumping him in the backseat none too gently. When he shut the back door and got in the front passenger seat, Ryan leaned across the gearshift to pull him into a kiss.

"You're doing great, baby." He whispered.

Ryan sat back up and turned the car on, drowning out the confused sounds Lim was making from where he was sprawled behind them. 

Ryan nearly sped back to their apartment building, but it was late enough by this point that no one was out on the roads to care. He pulled in to their parking spot rather sidelong, but didn't bother to fix it. Shane got out of the car with him, and helped him collect their drunk guest from the back seat. Shane was once again grateful for the uncaring attitude of their neighbours.

Lim didn't stop trying to nuzzle Ryan's neck nearly the entire climb up the stairs. He periodically would slur some question about Shane but he was impressively drunk so he never made much sense.

"What the hell'd you give him to get him so gone?" Shane laughed as they reached their front door and Lim staggered right into the frame with a thump.

"Owner's special moonshine." Ryan said with a wink. He turned the knob and they watched as Lim fell into the foyer with a surprised expression. They stepped in after him and Ryan locked all the locks on their door.

"I'm not going to do this my usual way, obviously, but it should still be close enough." Ryan grabbed Lim's arm and hauled the small guy up. He snagged a chair from their dining room table and dragged both into the kitchen. Shane followed him, raising an eyebrow when Ryan set the chair down firmly in the middle of a tarp that spread across most of their kitchen floor. He shoved Lim into the chair.

"Give me a hand, baby?"

"Of course." Shane stood in front of Lim, holding him down by his shoulders while Ryan pulled the man's arms behind him and secured them together with a roll of duct tape. Lim started to struggle against his hold when he realised he was being strapped down but Ryan had already moved on to tapping down his feet by that point. There was a strip of tape slapped over his mouth before Lim could even think to start screaming.

"Thanks." Ryan set the tape down on the counter and Shane let go of their victim. "Just go sit on the counter or something and watch now."

Shane nodded, leaning back against their sink. He watched Ryan grab a wicked looking knife from one of the drawers and walk to face Lim. He ran the tip of the knife musingly down the front of the man's jacket, tracing a single thread of gold. Lim's eyes flickered nervously back and forth. In a smooth, practised motion, Ryan slid into Lim's lap, his movements sensual. He ran a palm down the front of Lim's jacket, a motion that burned a little in the back of Shane's throat.

Ryan unbuttoned the jacket with a flip of his thumb, then ran the knife carefully from the bottom of Lim's now untucked shirt to his collar, slicing off the buttons with a wrist flourish. He traced the line of Lim's sternum with the tip of the blade and Shane watched as Lim's eyes began to bulge with fright. The man began to thrash in the chair and scream in the back of his throat, nearly dislodging Ryan from his spot in his lap. In the blink of an eye, Ryan put a stop to that by pinching his nose and yanking his head back, pressing the blade to the exposed line of throat.

"I don't think you understand the position you're in here, Mr. Lim. Or Steven. Can I call you Steven?" Ryan spoke, but it was Ricky's voice that came out. Smooth, low and with a touch of amused cruelty that Tinsely had found so terribly attractive when they'd first met. A smirk split his face like the opening of a switchblade.

"You see, you've really done this to yourself. But I'm going to carry out your sentence. No one is going to stop me, so don't trouble yourself by worrying about that." Ricky paused when he noticed Lim's eyes frantically flickering to Shane. The little grin that had grown on his face faded.

With a sharp jerk, Ricky yanked Lim's head further back and beads of red appeared on his skin. "Don't look at him. Don't put your filthy eyes on him. He's not going to help you. He's all mine."

Ricky released his head and turned his attention and his blade back to Lim's chest.

"Don't worry, I won't draw this out." There was almost no warning besides a tightening of Ricky's back before he'd shoved his hand forward. The knife sank in smoothly, almost obscene in how easily it went in. Lim jerked once, surprise and horror overtaking his features, then he slumped. The spray of blood was minimal, but still enough to thoroughly coat Ricky's hands.

"He's not dead yet, just fainted from shock." Ricky said evenly, and now his voice was lighter and measured, calm. Ryan.

Ryan twisted the blade in the wound and Lim jerked a few more times, still unconscious. He pulled it out at an angle from how the blade had gone in and got off the dying man's lap as blood began to gurgle out of the wound.

"In about five minutes, he'll be totally dead." Ryan set the knife down and walked up to Shane. "How are you doing?"

Shane's hands cupped Ryan's face and he leant down to kiss his fiance as soon as he was within reach. Ryan immediately fell into it, his arms locking behind Shane's neck.

"You're beautiful." Shane pulled back for just a moment to look at his partner's eyes, even darker than usual. His thumbs swept across Ryan's cheekbones when he moved to kiss him again and he let himself be pulled into their living room. When they separated again, Ryan sank down to a knee.

"I think poetry is pretentious and we've already discussed everything that I could ever think to say to you right now. We already share every facet of our lives with each other." Ryan's hands were a wet red, but rock steady as he pulled a little box out of his jacket pocket. "This isn't legal at all, baby, but neither is anything else that we do together. Marry me?"

Shane barely waited for the ring to be on his finger before he'd pulled Ryan back into his arms and another kiss. "You quite literally did not even have to ask."

Ryan's hands unbuttoned the vest and shoved it off Shane's shoulders even as he struggled out of his own piece. "You were the one who insisted we go all traditional and have a bachelor's party."

Shane let Ryan push him down onto the couch as they both tried and failed to get out of their shirts and slacks without letting go of each other. "Absolutely nothing that we've done tonight has been traditional."

Ryan laughed. "Just tonight?"

"Or ever." Shane's voice lowered as he pulled Ryan into his lap. "You're going to be the death of me."

"I'd never let anyone else take you first, that's for sure." His giggle was sharp and he pressed down on Shane's chest, pushing him so he was lying on his back across the couch. "You know, detective, I take back what I said the second time we met. When I told you that red wasn't your colour."

It was almost like roleplay now, Ricky's seemingly uncaring grin that leered down at him. Shane, Tinsley, knew that behind the mask was his fiance, husband, partner, and that somehow only made their game hotter. He groaned as Ricky's hands wrapped around his throat, not applying pressure but smearing Lim's blood there like a choker. 

"You look absolutely gorgeous in it." Ricky began to trace lines across his chest, the blood smearing poorly, as Ricky leant down to kiss him. There was only the thin layer of their cotton briefs in between them now, and Shane could feel the hard length of Ricky pressed into his hip. With one hand, he reached under the couch to fumble for the bottle of lotion they kept there, the other hand creeping around to grab Ricky's ass. 

Ricky hissed and arched his back into Shane's hold. When Shane's hand slipped under the waistband of his briefs to drag the material down, Ricky returned the favour. His hands left clear red marks across the pale skin of Shane's hips. Shane awkwardly managed to squeeze some lotion onto the fingers of his left hand while keeping his right firmly on Ricky's hip, his fingers pressing marks into the tanned skin there. Shane trailed his fingers down the line of Ricky's spine, teasing him, before he got to his entrance. He slipped his finger in, the fit not as tight as he'd expected. 

"Did you do this to yourself before we went out?" Shane said, his voice a near growl. "Did you finger yourself when you got home, thinking of me? Thinking of doing this, once we finished with the other one?"

Ricky's thighs tensed as he pulled himself up slightly, trying to fuck himself back on Shane's fingers. "I saw how you got after the last murder. How you looked at me when we were in the car and you had me describe my first time to you. I know you love the sight of me, covered in blood."

He drug a thumb across Shane's lips as he spoke, his eyes nearly black. Shane could taste metal, and he pulled Ricky down to kiss him, pushing the taste of blood into his mouth with lazy strokes of his tongue. The angle was better now, and Shane added a second finger. 

Ricky shoved back against it with a snap of his hips. "I knew you'd get like this. You're so predictable."

The words were a sneer against Shane's mouth, and he retaliated with a nip at Ricky's bottom lip. "So you went and did some of my work for me. How lovely of you."

"Only because I knew you'd take this long." The roll of Ricky's hips against him was impatient.

Shane grinned and followed at the edge of his hole with his third finger, stroking and teasing but not actually giving in. Then, without warning, he pushed his third finger in, relishing in the strangled moan it drew from Ricky and the twitch he felt in the cock pressed to his stomach. "You think you can take all of me, right now?"

Tinsley would have never been so mouthy to Ricky. He'd always done what Ricky wanted, every time, so eager and desperate to keep his attention. Shane put it down to a fear of loosing out too early in the game. But much had changed since those cat-and-mouse games between killer and detective, and that wasn't his truth anymore. He was Shane now, not Tinsley, and he knew the man writhing in his lap was completely, utterly his.

Ricky drew up, his back arched, and he looked down at Shane with lidded eyes. "Only one way to find out, big guy."

Shane slid his fingers out, dropping his hand to help line himself up as he guided Ricky down with the other hand on his hip. The ring on his finger stood out like a beacon against Ricky's darker skin. 

Ricky groaned when he was fully seated, his eyes fluttering closed. Shane waited for him to move first before he began to roll his own hips in time. His hands dropped from Ricky's waist to his thighs, feeling the ripple and flex of muscle underneath the skin and he bounced. Ricky's eyes were still almost closed, his hair mussed by Shane's hands and beginning to stick to his forehead from sweat. His shoulders were back, the hard lines of his chest clear even in the dark and his cock was erect and flushed against his stomach, bobbing slightly. Shane thought he was absolutely perfect. 

Shane sat up and Ricky gave a choked off moan at the sudden change in angle, his hands finding Shane's shoulders easily as he was pulled closer. Shane put one foot down on the floor, using the leverage to thrust up harder, faster. The now dried blood on Ricky's hands started to flake off as his whole body moved with each thrust. Ricky ducked his head to hide his face in Shane's shoulder, little high-pitched whines that told Shane how close he was starting to fall from his lips. Shane merely held him tighter, his own hips getting more erratic as he got closer himself. He shoved a hand between their bodies, wrapping his fingers around Ricky's cock and using the rhythm of their thrusts to jerk him off. That sent Ricky tumbling over the edge with a muffled cry, his body clenching around Shane as he came in between them. With a final thrust, Shane spilled over after him, rolling his hips into Ricky through his own orgasm. 

They sat there, simply breathing for a while, before Shane grabbed Ryan's discarded boxers to wipe them up. 

"We really should clean up." 

"Yeah, I feel pretty gross. Shower with me?" Ryan staggered to his feet, a little unsteady. 

Shane got up, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "Of course. I meant the body, though. We should probably get rid of it before people start to wake up."

"Oh, yeah. That." Ryan sighed. "That's a problem for post-shower me."

Shane chuckled. "Let's go get a shower, then. I love you, Ryan Bergara."

"Love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been a very fun series to write, obviously, since I've tried unsuccessfully to end it twice now, but this is the last part of their story that I'll be writing. For realsies this time, it's over. 
> 
>  
> 
> _Fin_


End file.
